


Degradation

by jonnyluvssherlock



Series: Cock Slut John [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BAMF John, Blow Jobs, Bottom John, Cock Ring, Cock Slut John Watson, Dark Sherlock, Derogatory Language, Dom/sub, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Gang Rape, Humiliation, John Watson Whump, M/M, Mild BDSM, Minor Character Death, Mycroft is mysterious, OMC's gets gang raped, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prison, Prison Sex, Public Sex, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Sherlock, Toys, Vibrator, dildo, john is sherlock's prison wife, kinda happy ending, mention of past drug use, morally black sherlock, sherlock likes to degrade his sex partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnyluvssherlock/pseuds/jonnyluvssherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson just entered prison and has already been scooped up by Sherlock Holmes who promises to protect him if he does everything he wants.  John learns that protection is earned on his knee's and on his back letting Sherlock do what ever he wants to him.  The longer they are together the more obsessed Sherlock gets with making John his and his only in body and mind.  Secrets keep them together but they may also drive them apart as the truth about how John ended up in prison comes to light and Sherlock confronts a faceless advisory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dark fic. John is coerced into having sex with Sherlock. Who then spends a lot of time degrading him. Read all the tags! There is mention of drugs, and alcoholism in this fic. If you think there is a tag I should add let me know and I will add it. I try my hardest not to trigger people.
> 
> specializedinomniscience is my beta for this fic. they are amazing and helped with content as well and fixing my spelling/grammar mistakes
> 
> Note: Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites such as goodreads or ebooks tree without my express permission.

Sherlock walked through one of the less used hallways of the prison. He had been trying to think, but everywhere was too loud; his mind was too frantic. Ahead of him, he heard what sounded like grunting and an occasional whine. Giving up on his intellectual pursuits, he decided to investigate the sounds instead. 

 

He came around a corner and found Tim, commonly known as the prison bitch,, being raped by three men. They had him bound by a long rope tied around his wrist and thrown over a pipe to keep him standing on his toes. One of the men held the end of the rope, occasionally pulling on it. Another was bent over Tim huffing as he fucked him. The other had his hand in his trousers, looking eager for his turn.

 

“I can’t wait!” The one handling himself whined. “Lower his head so I can have a turn. 

 

Tim’s head was lowered and he opened his mouth without protest. A year of being used as the entire prison’s sexual plaything had taught him not to fight back. Sherlock knew only from stories that when Tim had entered the prison someone had offered him protection, which he had turned down. In retribution, the guy let fifty men publicly gang-bang Tim. Then he had told anyone who tried to help that the same would happen to them. Tim had been made public property and was not even worth a cigarette.

 

The man holding the rope, whom Sherlock recognized as Ivan - in for fraud and petty theft - noticed Sherlock standing down the hall.

 

“You want a turn?” He smiled in an attempt to look friendly.

 

“No thank you.” ‘I prefer my sex without aids.’ He thought.

 

“You sure, he’s really tight today.” He watched Sherlock with an eager child’s gaze.

 

Sherlock had a reputation for either being able to make someone’s life very easy, or a living hell. Everyone wanted to be his friend and were terrified of being on his bad side.

 

“I’m sure,” he sneered, as he walked away, making a note of the activity.

 

Two weeks later, short, fit, blond, blue-eyed, ex-military, John Watson entered the prison. Sherlock had his name before he entered the front doors. He saw him as soon as he arrived and knew he wanted him. He let it be known that John Watson was his and everyone deferred to his judgement.

 

He left John alone at first, giving him a week to settle in and get a lay of the land. Waiting to approach him during lunch when he could easily get to him. He took the seat across from him and waited untill everyone around him scattered.

 

“John Watson.” Sherlock stated, there was no question in his voice.

 

John looked up from his food and gave him a once-over. “You are?”

 

Sherlock smiled. “Sherlock Holmes, have you been enjoying your first week of prison?”

 

“Is that a joke?”

 

“What I mean is, have you enjoyed not being molested by any of your fellow inmates?”

 

John looked at him, worry and confusion clouding his gaze.

 

“You must have noticed that the two other men you came in with have had to fight for their respect.”

 

“What are you getting at?”

 

“I’ve been protecting you.” Sherlock flashed his teeth. “Now, I have come to collect what is owed.”

 

“I didn’t ask.” He started. “What if I don’t want your protection!?” John spluttered indignantly.

 

Sherlock glared at him but kept a smile in place. “I’m here to give you a choice, you can either be mine, or you can be every one’s. If you pick me, I won’t share or trade you, and I will not let anyone hurt you. No one but me will touch you.”

 

He saw a glint of fear in John’s eyes.

 

“You’ll have until dinner to decide. Until then, I recommend you talk to him.” He pointed to where Tim was sitting, a man on either side of him. One had a hand on Tim’s leg and the other had one in his hair. 

 

“If you pick me, tell Hank, the guard, when you come in to dinner that your bed is uncomfortable. Then get your food and come sit by me. Your things will be moved to my cell by the time dinner is over.” Sherlock rose to leave.

 

“What will you expect of me?”

 

Sherlock turned to look at John.

 

“Tonight? Not full sex, but I will expect an orgasm. Understand that what we have will not be love, but I won’t abuse you and neither will anyone else.” Sherlock walked away a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

 

Sherlock was confident John would pick him. Any sane person would, especially given the alternative. When a tray was put down on the table across from him, he smiled quickly then let his face go blank.

 

“Where is your cell anyway? I was getting used to where mine was.”

 

Sherlock looked up at John who sat across from him looking gruff and uncomfortable. The reading he had gotten the few times he had lay eyes on the man led him to believe John was bisexual, or at least bi-curious. The file read murder but John did not look like the type of man who would have taken a life outside of the war. He was feeling guilty over something, but it was not the alleged crime. 

 

“I’ll take you there after dinner.”

 

John nodded. “You don’t eat?”

 

“Not when I’m thinking, it slows me down.”

 

John nodded again and started eating. He already had a high tolerance for bland food from the Army.

 

John was surprisingly good dinner company. He did not talk when there was no conversation to be had. He ate his food and then he waited for instructions on what to do. When Sherlock was done in the dining hall, he led John up to their cell.

 

“I have the bottom bunk.”

 

There was no argument from his new cell-mate.

 

“I don’t sleep often though and if I’m awake, I might tell you to sleep in my bunk.”

 

“Why?” John had gone to look at a mass of newspaper articles strewn across the desk.

 

“So I can get to you easily, obviously.”

 

Taking a deep breath, John turned to look at him and opened his palms in capitulation. “How do you want me?”

 

‘Right down to business. He could get used to this.’ “On your knees.”

 

John looked a little tense, but hid it well. He got on his knees in front of Sherlock and waited.

 

“I should tell you now I will not be nice to you.” 

 

“How so?” John swallowed and leaned slightly away from him.

 

Sherlock reached out and put a hand on the back of John’s head. “During sex I enjoy calling my partners degrading names.

 

He could see John was not happy about it, but he was not going to argue.

 

“Have you ever sucked anyone off before?”

 

“A few times.”

 

“Good, I won’t have to teach you the basics, though what I really want to do is fuck your throat.” He opening his trousers and freed his semi-erect cock.

 

“What about a condom.” John half-shouted.

 

‘We’re both clean. You were tested when you were brought in and I got tested last week.”

 

John gave him a look that said he knew exactly why he had been tested. Sherlock smirked back, he was right. 

 

“Yes John I tested us both so I could bareback you without worry. Now open!” 

 

He grabbed John’s nose, forcing him to open his mouth wide enough to shove in his cock. John gagged and struggled for air before finding his composure. He tried to lick the head and shaft but Sherlock shoved the whole thing in ramming it in and out repeatedly, pushing in deeper and deeper with each thrust. Sherlock then shoved his cock as far down John’s throat as he could go, holding it there until John was pulling on his shirt for help. He pulled himself out of John’s mouth and gave him a chance to breath.

 

“I am going to make something very clear right now, you are my bitch! I will do with you and to you whatever I please. Right now, I want to fuck your throat, so open up and let me.”

 

John nodded, tears prickling the corners of his eyes from gagging.

 

Sherlock held his cock out and John opened his mouth to let Sherlock fuck it. Putting one hand on the back of John’s head, Sherlock thrust in untill he bottomed out deep in John’s throat. John’s nose was buried in his pubic hair.

 

“That’s it keep your tongue moving around like that. I’m going to cum. I expect you to swallow down every last drop. Be sure to savor it and not waste anything.”

 

Sherlock sat smoking at the small desk in his cell newspaper, clippings spread out in front of him. He was missing something, he just could not figure out what. Despite having a release nearly four hours ago, his mind was once again a mess. Listening to the sounds around him, he caught the soft sound of John’s breathing.

 

He needed to get his work done by morning and he knew of at least one easy way to clear his mind. He might as well use it. He put his cigarette out and opened the top drawer of the desk. Grabbing the medical-grade lube, he coerced the guard into giving him, Sherlock walked over to the bed. 

 

John was lying on the bottom bunk where he had left him. Sherlock nudged him with a knee and waited.

 

John’s eyes shot open and he looked around him. “What?” He demanded,

 

“Roll over I want to fuck you.”

 

“You said-“John started.

 

“I changed my mind. I’m allowed to do that. Now roll over onto your hands and knees and pull your trousers out of the way. I have lube.” He waved the tube in front of John impatiently.

 

Slowly John rolled over onto his front and pulled his trousers down to expose his arse. Sherlock crawled up behind him, slicking his finger up with lube and shoving it in. John clenched around him.

 

“You could be a little gentler.” John muttered.

 

“I’m taking the time to prep you. Consider that a kindness. Most would not even bother.” Sherlock shoved his finger in and out a few times. “Relax; it will be easier on you.” He waited for John to do so before he took his finger out and shoved two back in. “I’m going to be your first aren’t I?” Sherlock purred.

 

John said nothing.

 

“John, I can make this painful or I can make this pleasant, answer me!”

 

“Yes! Alight?” 

 

“You always wanted to though. You got on your knees to suck off men.” Sherlock slammed three fingers into John making him jump. “Were you afraid? Didn’t want to prove everyone right that you were nothing but a cock-slut?”

 

“No!” John gasped.

 

Sherlock pulled his fingers out coated his cock in lube and pushed himself into John. “You are nothing but a cock slut, John. And now, I get you for my own personal use.”

 

John grunted under him and braced himself on his hands.

 

Sherlock smiled down at him. “You’re going to be servicing my cock a lot from now own. If you don’t get used to this soon, things are going to be pretty tough for you. I would stop fighting me and learn to enjoy it.”

 

“I doubt that’s going to happen.” John bit back.

 

Sherlock shifted and hit John’s prostate. John jumped under him and clenched his inner walls around Sherlock’s cock. “I told you I could make this enjoyable.” He pushed John’s head into the bed. “I’m going to break you in good and proper, make you my cum-dump.”

 

He hit John’s prostate a few more times. John started panting under him despite his determination not to. Sherlock fucked him brutally while he let part of his mind wander.

 

Sherlock bent over John to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to cum soon John. I’m going to fill you up.” 

 

“No,” he groaned. “Outside.”

 

Sherlock chuckled. “Bitches don’t get to make those decisions.”

 

Thrusting in a few more times, he dumped his load deep inside of John, nudging his cock even farther in just to prove his point. He stayed inside until he could not take it anymore, and then pulled out. John collapsed onto the bunk, cum dripping out of his abused hole. Sherlock smiled at the sight.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it soon enough.” He patted John’s arse. “Pull up your trousers, John. You look like you’re asking for it.”

 

In the morning a guard walked by and Sherlock handed him two pieces of paper. One with an identity and the other of a list of things he wanted in exchange for the name. 

 

After lunch, his things had arrived. John and he had just come back from sitting in the dining hall to find a box on the desk. John ignored it and climbed up to his bunk. 

Sherlock opened the box with a smile. As usual, there were more newspaper clippings on top and a note.

 

Found a new distraction I see. Good. –M

 

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock tossed the note away and put the clippings to the side. He looked into the box and found his payment. There were two anal plugs, a dildo, a vibrator and a gag. He opened the top drawer of the desk and put them inside.

 

“Today I noticed that even the guards seem to respect you in some odd way.”

 

Sherlock turned to look at John. He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. The man hardly talked so it was easy to forget he was there.

 

“Yes?” 

 

“I’ve looked all over the cell and you don’t seem to be running anything or with anyone.”

 

Sherlock smiled. John wasn’t as dull as he thought. 

 

“There are three major forms of currency here, drugs, cigarettes, and sex. You have cigarettes but you smoke them all. You said I’m not up for trade and I don’t see you bending down for anyone.” He turned to look at Sherlock. “I’ve also not seen any drugs in this entire block.”

 

“I have something better.”

 

“What?’

 

“Come get on your knees to take my cock into your hot little mouth and I’ll tell you.”

 

John groaned but did as commanded. Sherlock sat on his bunk and motioned to his groin. John reached in, pulled out his soft cock, and looked up at him.

 

“Well?”

 

This time John swallowed him down without any coercion. He licked and bobbed up and down on Sherlock’s cock, as if it was ice pop.

 

“Look me in the eye when you suck me off.”

 

John looked up.

 

“The things I have that they don’t are secrets.” Sherlock smirked. “I know things about every one of them that could be severely detrimental to their lives, so they do as I tell them and leave me alone in the meantime.”

 

He watched as something clicked in John’s eyes.

 

“Look how sexy you are with my cock so deep down your throat.” He put his hand on the back of Johns head and forced him to take him deeper and for a longer amount of time. “Yeah that’s it, suck harder. That’s right, just like that. I’m going to cum. Take it all into your mouth.”

 

\---------

 

Because Sherlock had so much of the prison under his thumb, it was easy for him take John on a field trip the next day after breakfast. He had found a section the prison no longer in use. With a few exchanges, he had gotten himself unlimited access to the area. Having sex in his cell was fine, but, to Sherlock’s endless irritation, John tended to muffle his sounds. It was one thing if he was gagging him, but Sherlock wanted to hear him scream and moan.

 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you dragged me down here?” John demanded as Sherlock set the box of toys down and looked for the mattress he had stashed.

 

“I’m tired of muffled sex. I want to hear you. I come down here when I want to think but this will also work for fucking.” He found the mattress behind a bookshelf. “Come help me with this.”

 

John joined him, but paused when he saw what Sherlock was pulling.

 

“I am not having sex with you down here!”

 

“Yes, you are. So decide, do you want it on the floor, or on this mattress?”

 

John stared at the floor for a few minutes fighting an internal battle, and then he huffed and walked over to help Sherlock with the mattress. When they had the mattress where Sherlock wanted it, John stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest. Sherlock opened the box and tossed the lube to him. 

 

“Take off all of your clothing and open yourself up.” He turned back to the toys, picking which one he would use first. When he looked back he saw John crouching on the mattress reaching down inside himself opening himself as quickly as possible, a mixture of pain and pleasure on his face. It was hard not to hold him down and fuck him right then.

 

“You look like an animal.” Sherlock laughed.

 

John shot him a glare, but kept fingering himself, his cock hardening as he did.

 

“Enough. We’ll start with this.” He held up the smaller of the two plugs.

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

“Secrets.” Sherlock held it out to John. “I want to see you put it in yourself.”

 

John sighed, pulling his fingers out to cover the toy in lube. Sherlock watched his face contort as he pushed the toy inside himself. The blush rising up his body was quite a sight. The toy was finally in place and John sighed again.

 

“My turn.” Sherlock pulled his cock out and offered it to John. The man didn’t even blink, just crawled over and took it into his mouth. “That’s it lick it carefully and get as much of it in to your mouth as you can. Coil your tongue around my cock. Take all of it down your throat like a good boy.”

 

While John sucked him, he noticed him moving his hips as if he was trying to get friction on his cock. “Once I cum I’ll help you.”

 

John moaned.

 

Sherlock pulled out almost all the way out of John’s mouth to come on his tongue. “Show me before you swallow it.”

 

John opened his mouth, revealing Sherlock’s release on his tongue.

 

“Now swallow.”

 

John glared at him but complied.

 

“Bend over.” 

 

John did so, and Sherlock pulled the plug free. He picked up the dildo, coated it in lube, and rammed it in and out of John until he came. Then he put the vibrator inside him and turned it on.

 

“You’ll start to feel better after I’ve forced an orgasm or two out of you.” 

 

John turned a murderous glare at him.

 

Sherlock forced John to go to lunch with the vibrator still running inside of him. It was quiet enough to go unnoticed, but anyone who looked at John could tell something was wrong. He had already had two orgasms that day and he was well on his way to his third.

 

They sat side-by-side in the dining hall, Sherlock scribbling notes, while John held onto the table for dear life. One or two people had inquired as to John’s health, but, with a look from Sherlock, they had soon hurried off. One had the nerve to give John a look that said he would like to bend him over the table and fuck him. Sherlock had put his name on a list of people to investigate. That man’s time in prison would not go well.

 

“Please Sherlock, I don’t think I can handle this anymore.” John whimpered and gave him a sideways glace.

 

“You do something nice for me and I’ll return the favor.”

 

John swallowed audibly, “Anything.”

 

“I want you to play along with my kink. When I call you names, I want you to say yes. I want you to agree that that’s what you are.”

 

“Only during sex.”

 

“Only during sex.” 

 

“Fine.”

 

“If I tell you to say certain things you will say them.”

 

“Fine, just please.” He reached out and put a hand on Sherlock’s thigh. “No more. Not right now.”

 

They went back to the room and Sherlock had John get on all fours. When he could see the toy moving inside John’s hole his first instinct was to push it in further. Instead, he pulled the toy out and, without warning, shoved his cock in its place.

 

John gasped, his whole body clamping around him. Then he started to shiver.

 

“Did you cum from just from me putting it in?” Sherlock teased.

 

John tired to squirm away from him.

 

“I’m not done yet.” He thrust into John forcing the man onto his elbows. “Ah good, take me down to the hilt.”

 

John panted under him. “Sherlock, please. I can’t.”

 

“You can and you will.”

 

He kept fucking John who, instead of pulling away, started to push back into him. “Look at you, raising your arse the deeper I fuck you. I’d say you’ve grown to enjoy this, John.”

 

“No,” John moaned. “No.”

 

“Oh yes.” He pushed in harder forcing John onto his shoulders. “Tell me what a bitch you are. Call yourself my cum-dump!”

 

Aside from his panting, John remained quiet, and then Sherlock hit his prostate twice in a row and he cried out.

 

“I’ll do it. I’ll be the best cum-dump ever. I’ll make you feel better than anyone ever has.”

 

“Good, John. I’ll make you take all my cum.” Sherlock fucked him until he could not move anymore, and then came deep inside him. He used the larger of the two plugs to keep it contained.

 

They lay there until dinner, John breathing and Sherlock thinking.

 

\---------

 

After that, John behaved very well for Sherlock. When they were not having sex, they acted as if it did not happen. There was no need to bring it up in conversation. John was a good companion. He talked very little and what he did say did not annoy. He was not offended by Sherlock’s personality, which was odd. Sherlock even found himself doing John little kindnesses. Getting him books to read from the outside, and jumpers to wear over his uniform. Sometimes talking with John would help put things into perspective.

 

People said Sherlock had gone soft by taking a prison wife, others made the mistake of trying to see if John was on loan, getting their secrets exposed in the process. Sherlock still got his work done, in fact he was getting it done fast enough that he was having time to work on other projects.

 

Even though John was not complaining, Sherlock could tell he disliked showers. That was mostly because Sherlock had made him give him a blowjob in front of everyone else when they went. It was a show of power; Sherlock had to show he was strong enough to own somebody.

 

However, John would still grumble the whole way.

 

You never knew what was going to happen in the showers. They might be alone or there might be someone showering right next to them, pretending not to notice John on his knees sucking Sherlock off.

 

They had walked in once when five guys had been raping a new inmate. Everyone was showering around it as if they could not see. That was the one time Sherlock did not have John go down on him, the air in the room had been strange enough that even he couldn’t get hard.

 

\---------

 

On a particularly boring afternoon a month into John sentencing, Sherlock was sitting on his bunk, John between his legs, lazily sucking him when one of the guards walked by.

 

“Afternoon, Sherlock.”

 

He had been writing something in his notebook and looked up. “It’s on the edge of the desk for you.”

 

The guard entered the room and John froze. Sherlock nudged him with his shoe and he continued half-heartedly. The guard picked up the two pieces of paper and stood for a moment looking at the desk.

 

“I’d love-“

 

“Mathew’s guy, Will, is right up your ally. Tell him I sent you.” Sherlock gave him a meaningful look.

 

The guard nodded. “Thanks, you’re always looking out for me.”

 

He left and John stopped again.

 

“I never told you that you could stop.”

 

“He wanted to fuck me.” John whispered.

 

“A lot of people do. You’re a very attractive man.”

 

“He’s a guard.”

 

Sherlock yanked John up by the hair so he was looking at him. “I told you I don’t share! I find other ways to pay!”

 

“So someone else has to rent their person out?” John bit out.

 

“Mathew and he will get along great. They’re both into double teaming.”

 

John looked a combination of scared and angry, yet calm and thankful. As if he could not decide which he should feel.

 

“Next time, just keep sucking. All you need to think about is my cock.”

 

John glared at him but lowered my mouth down and swallowed him down regardless.

 

Sherlock put a hand against John’s neck. “Stroke it, with the inside if your throat.”

 

John took it in deeper. Sherlock wanted to hold off, but John was getting to good at this.

 

When he got close, he put his hand on the back of John’s head and forced his cock as far down his throat as possible, holding it there. “Drink it all down, bitch!”

 

\--------

 

After forcing John to walk around with the vibrator inside him, seeing him cum repeatedly, Sherlock decided he wanted to see the opposite. He put a cock ring on the list of things wanted in exchange for his services and did not waste any time using it once it arrived.

 

John was not pleased about being woken up from Sherlock reaching into his pants, grabbing his flaccid cock and shoving the silver ring onto him. He had tried to stop him but Sherlock had prevailed. He had gagged John to keep him quiet, then he had lubed up and fucked him right there on the top bunk.

 

Watching John writhing under him, desperate for a release he would not be given, had been breathtaking. He had put the vibrator in him afterwards and then they had gone to breakfast.

 

John sat there trying to eat, but his body would not stop shivering. All morning, Sherlock watched him trying to do things with his face getting pink and his eyes watering. He made it part way through lunch before he finally reached for his cock.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Sherlock growled.

 

“I have to cum, Sherlock.” John looked at him, his eyes half-glazed over.

 

“Then how about begging for it?”

 

“Please Sherlock, let me cum? Put your cock in me and make me cum!”

 

Sherlock smiled.

 

When they got to their private nest, John stripped out of his clothing and got on all fours without having to be told.

 

“I like a bitch that knows its place.” Sherlock purred.

 

He pulled the vibrator free for John’s hole, hearing the man sigh from beneath him. Then he reached under him and slowly worked the cock ring off.

 

“I expect you to make this worth my time.”

 

John nodded.

 

Sherlock pushed his cock inside him and John tightened around him immediately. “Easy now, trying not to cum right away?” 

 

John moaned and bucked against him.

 

“Nice and tight. Must feel good to have something inserted into you. The way you moan. “

 

“Please fuck my arse. Dump it full of your cum.” John panted.

 

“Then start moving those hips of yours.” 

 

Sherlock thrust forward and John pushed back to meet him.

 

“You’re so thick, so thick! So good, more, deeper, yes, like that.” John begged, tightening himself around Sherlock.

 

“I love it when you tighten up.”

 

“I want more! Please fuck me more! Fuck my arse more!”

 

“How pathetic, you’re acting just like a bitch in heat. But that’s exactly what makes you so cute.”

 

He could feel John shaking through his release, but kept fucking him.

 

“No more Sherlock. Please, no more.” John begged a few minutes later.

 

“Your arse doesn’t seem to want me to stop. Just look at the way it’s clamping down on me.” Sherlock fucked him harder.

 

John gasped, coming again. He clenched down on Sherlock’s cock sending Sherlock over the limit. He came inside John with a harsh yell, then pulled his cock out to watch his release drip out John’s wrecked hole. It had been open so long, it was not closing right away.

 

When the next box arrived, he shifted through the news paper clippings and found one about John’s crime. It was the murder of a man who had been stalking his sister. The moment he read it, he knew John was innocent. He had been on leave with a friend when he had suddenly gotten up in the middle of the night to kill the man? Highly unlikely. It was more likely that his sister was the killer and he was covering for her. But why? He put the article in the bottom desk drawer for later.

 

\------------

 

Sherlock was lying on his back in their secret room, John fucking himself on his cock. His face was euphoric at what he was doing. Suddenly, Sherlock thought he understood. John was the kind of person who took other people’s responsibilities onto himself. There must have been some falling out, something in their past for which he blamed himself. He probably felt as if he could take it all back by doing this for her.

 

“John.”

 

John looked down, still pumping himself up and down on him.

 

“Why did you say you killed Jefferson Hope when it was clearly your sister?”

 

John faltered in his movements. 

 

“What did she say to convince you?”

 

John smiled. By now he had seen Sherlock do this to everyone they had come across, so it no longer shocked him. 

 

“She was drunk. Well, is a drunk. She promised me that if I let her get away with it, then she would get herself help. I think she had thought at the time that I was just going to hide the body.”

 

Sherlock reached out and griped John’s hips. “Why did you take the rap?”

 

John shrugged. “I was just trying to protect her.”

 

They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, then Sherlock flipped them over and fucked John fast and hard. He did not enjoy knowing that John had cared too much for someone else. He did not want to think about it anymore.

 

“Faster, make me feel good, Sherlock.” John gasped, his eyes rolling back. 

 

Sherlock felt John cum under him and pressed himself in harder. John panted, bucking up against him. The tightness was unbearably good, and with a few more thrusts, he was coming inside of him.

 

Sherlock chuckled over him and smiled “You have a first rate arse, John. You should be proud.” 

 

Under him, John caught his breath but said nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say my beta specializedinomniscience is a rock star. they got this fic edited in one day!!!
> 
> WARNINGS!!  
> there is mention of past drug use and drug cravings in this chapter!!!  
> read the warnings at the beginning of the fic and read all the tags before reading!

Sherlock was walking back from his work shift alone one night when he passed a man who did a double take as he went by him. Sherlock pretended to ignore it, but his guard was up as the man walked back and started walking along side him.

 

“You’re Holmes, right?” The man asked, looking nervous despite his attempt at giving an air of confidence.

 

Sherlock nodded and kept walking. He did not want to be caught alone if this was going to be an ambush.

 

“I have a message from Jim.”

 

Sherlock stopped and looked at him. Jim ran block two the way Sherlock ran block one, nothing in or out without him knowing it. That included information. Sherlock had been trying to get data on him for months.

 

The man extended his hand to Sherlock for him to shake; he did not want to, but he figured it was all part of Jim’s plan. Sherlock took the man’s hand and held it in his own.

 

“Jim says hi,” the man smiled.

 

When he pulled his hand back, Sherlock felt the exchange. A small package was left cradled in his palm. He put his hand into his pocket without looking at it and nodded. The man backed away and walked off.

 

Back in his cell, Sherlock pulled his hand out his pocket and found a small bag of cocaine. He sat down on the edge of his bunk, still looking at it. It seemed Jim had managed to learn one of his secrets.

 

John came in half an hour later to find him still studying the small bag.

 

“What is that?” John demanded.

 

“A threat. An invitation? I don’t really know.” Sherlock ran a hand through his hair and realized it was shaking. God, he wanted it.

 

“It looks like cocaine.” John crossed his arms across his chest and looked indignant.

 

“Don’t state the obvious, John!” Sherlock shouted back.

 

John came closer. “Where did you get it? I’ve never seen drugs in this block.”

 

“It came from block two.” He looked up at John and saw the man was looking at him as if he wanted to help. “It was a gift. That’s how they always get you, isn’t it? Free the first time. You get hooked, and then you’ll pay anything for another hit.”

 

John sat on the bunk next to him. “This isn’t the first time?”

 

“No.”

 

John put a hand on his thigh.

 

“I keep block one clean so I won’t have it around me. It’s not out of the kindness of my heart. It’s a purely selfish action.”

 

“Then how did you get this?”

 

“Jim. He runs block two. He had it sent to me as a way of saying hello. Either he’s saying ‘I know your dirty little secret,’ or he wants to do business; business where I’m always disadvantaged, because I need what he has more.”

 

“Did you take any?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“Yes!” He spoke through gritted teeth.

 

John took the packet from his hand and went over to the toilet. He dumped the contents inside, followed by the bag, and flushed the whole lot down the toilet.

 

“What do you normally do to distract yourself?” John asked, looking around the small cell.

 

“I fuck.” Sherlock said squeezing his shaking hands.

 

John smiled and walked over to him. “John Watson, cum-dump, reporting for duty; I’ll do my best to service your cock as much as you like.”

 

“You’re offering yourself to me?”

 

“I’d rather you fuck me than get high. I need you to be able to protect me.”

 

‘Ah, self-preservation.’ Still, he would take it. “This might go on for hours. You’re really going to have to distract me.”

 

John climbed into his lap, straddling him. “I’ve built up a lot of endurance the past six months, don’t you think?”

 

“It’s time to find out. You can start by riding me.”

 

John nodded. He left the bed to fetch the lube from the desk. “Pull your blanket off the bed, would you?” John called over his shoulder.

 

“Why?” Sherlock asked, a hand already down his trousers, lightly tracing his hardening cock.

 

“I’ll show you.” John came back and put the lube on the table next to Sherlock’s bunk. 

 

Sherlock pulled the blanket from the bed and handed it to him. He watched as John tucked the edge of blanket under the top bed, creating a curtain around the lower bunk.

 

“Feelings shy, John?” He said, trying to mock him.

 

“We don’t actually have sex in here very often. When we do, we don’t undress. It’s just a quick fuck or I’m sucking you off. Tonight, we’re going to be doing it for a while, and I have a feeling we’re going to get naked. So yes, I’d rather you be the only one to see me.”

 

“Less talking, more fucking.” Sherlock moaned.

 

John grabbed the lube and joined him on his bunk. He took off his trousers and pants. Without having to be told, he started to work his hole open. Sherlock watched as John pushed first one, then two fingers into himself and began thrusting in and out. He listened to John’s groans and watched as John’s cock hardened without having to be touched. 

 

It was amazing to think that the man had not had any anal experience before six months ago. Now he could cum just from fingering himself. When he could easily fit three fingers inside of himself, Sherlock figured he had waited long enough.

 

“You’re ready, John.”

 

John looked up from his work and nodded. He pulled Sherlock’s trousers and pants down out of the way and straddled his lap. He was about to sink down when Sherlock stopped him.

 

“Make me want it.”

 

John looked at him as if he was mad.

 

“If you don’t say please, I won’t let you have my cock.”

 

John sighed, his body trembling as he poised himself over Sherlock hands, holding his arse cheeks apart. “Please, use me however you like.” John said dryly.

 

Sherlock gave him a look that said he could do better than that.

 

John gave him puppy dog eyes. “Please pound my slutty hole with your cock.”

 

Sherlock smiled and nodded to John. “Ok.”

 

John sank down onto him, moaning as he went. He rocked his body up and down gasping every time he took Sherlock deeper inside of him.

 

Sherlock placed his hands on John’s hips, feeling his muscles move as John ground down on him. He felt up under John’s shirt and slowly helped John out of it. He watched John pump himself up and down on him. John looked laid bare, as if Sherlock has stripped away everything but what made him his cock-slut.

 

“Faster,” Sherlock whispered.

 

John rocked his hips back and forth, picking up his speed. His mouth opened as he panted. He placed both hands on Sherlock’s chest, shifting up and down, fucking him as fast as he could manage.

 

All the while, he watched Sherlock. There was no judgment for his earlier struggles, just a look of pure devotion. Sherlock could not take in anymore.

 

“Lean back.” He muttered, looking away.

 

He felt John’s hands settle on his thighs. When he looked back, John had his eyes closed. He fucked himself faster.

 

“I’m gonna cum.” John murmured.

 

“Not until I do.”

 

John keened, but rocked his arse faster. Sherlock felt his balls tighten. He pulled John down so he was sure to come deep inside him. He must have hit John’s prostrate because John came, untouched, painting stripes of cum across Sherlock’s chest.

 

“You came at the same time as me.”

 

John smiled down at him.

 

\---------

Sherlock kept John up all night fucking him. It was not until after dawn that John finally demanded a break.

 

“Hold on, please. I need a break. No more, I can’t take any more. It hurts. Stop, you’re skewering me!” 

 

Sherlock had been trying to pull John into a new position after they had finished, his cock hard already. When stressed, Sherlock’s refractory period tended to evaporate and he was able to go for hours.

 

“It seems your endurance isn’t so great after all.”

 

“We’ve been going almost non-stop for hours. You’re going to break me. My arse cannot take that kind of constant attention.” John gave him a pathetic look. 

 

‘Trying to earn pity, no doubt.’

 

“Let me sleep till breakfast, and if you promise to eat something, you can have me afterwards.”

 

Sherlock regarded John. He knew what he was saying made sense. Unlike him, John needed sleep, and if they were going to continue having sex like this, he would need calories to burn.

 

“I pick what I eat.” Sherlock said, petulance dripping from his words.

 

“Tea isn’t a food.” John replied sternly.

 

Sherlock nodded.

 

John collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes.

 

“This might have been the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

 

John opened one eye and looked at him.

 

“Waiting for you to fall asleep so I can sneak off and get more. Now that I know where I can, what’s to stop me as soon at you’re asleep?”

 

John got up, pulling the blanket that had curtained them off and wrapping it around himself like a toga. He walked to Sherlock’s desk and opened the top drawer, returning to the bed with a pair of handcuffs.

 

“I know you can get out of these, but if we’re attached, I’ll feel you trying to leave.” He put one cuff around his wrist, pulled the blanket off himself so that it fell over the both of them, and then he pulled the handcuff around one of the metal rods on the headboard and fastened it to Sherlock’s wrist.

 

“Now I’ll know if you try to leave.” John lay back down and closed his eyes again. He was asleep in moments.

 

Sherlock lay down in the small bed, tucking John against him. He realized he had picked well the day he had decided to make John his companion.

 

\---------

Sherlock slept for forty-five minutes and then waited for an appropriate time to wake John up. With thirty minutes until breakfast, he made John give him a blowjob before the two of them walked down together. 

 

While John yawned into his oatmeal, Sherlock quickly ate enough on his plate for John’s approval. He kept his eyes wandering the room for the man he had run into the night before. When he spotted him, he bumped John with his elbow.

 

John blinked up at him, half-awake, before noticing that he was staring at something else. He followed Sherlock’s line of sight to the man across the room.

 

“The tall blond one with the facial scar, he’s the one.”

 

“That’s Moran.” John took another bite of oatmeal, looking back down at the table.

 

“How do you know someone and I don’t?”

 

“He’s in block two, usually stays as far away from here as possible. He’s ex military. I was in the library my first week and he said hello. He was the first person to really talk to me. Said that it was a shame I wasn’t in block two, that the military types should stick together.”

 

Sherlock ground his teeth. Jim had known he had set his eyes on John and had sent a scout to see what was so special about him. No one in block one had been gutsy enough to get involved with John, but Jim had. He suddenly felt the need to release some anger.

 

“I need to fuck you, right now!” Sherlock ground out.

 

John nodded and followed him out of the dining area.

 

The moment they walked into the cell, Sherlock was on him. He pushed him onto hands and knees on the bed and pulled his trousers down. He found John had not even bothered with pants. He shoved two un-lubed fingered inside him without warning.

 

“Still wet from before.”

 

“It hasn’t been that long.” John clenched around him, sounding pained.

 

Sherlock located the lube, slicked himself up, and rammed his cock into John all at once. John cried out under him.

 

“Gentler!” John begged.

 

“No!” Sherlock growled.

 

“Then you can only fuck me twice until lunch. I need to be able to recover.”

 

“Fine.” Sherlock grabbed a handful of John’s hair, pulling him back by it. He fucked John brutality, slamming into repeatedly, not caring whether John received any pleasure. John reached back with one hand and balanced himself by resting it on Sherlock’s hip.

 

All Sherlock could think about was how Jim had tried to take John away from him before he’d even had him. John was his and he was not going to let anyone take him away.

 

John whined under him, begging. “Please slow down, not so hard, it hurts. You’re going to tear me!”

 

“That’s not what I want to hear from you.” Sherlock pulled out slightly and slammed back into him just to prove a point.

 

“Harder, fuck me harder,” John muttered, fighting back tears.

 

John tightened around him and Sherlock came with a snarl. He pulled out and sat back panting, watching John curl in on himself at the head of the bed.

 

“Say thank you.” He smacked John’s arse, which was still slightly in the air.

 

“Thank you so much for fucking me with your cock.” John deadpanned.

 

Sherlock could hear that he was trying to hold back tears.

 

“That’s better. You’re a good boy, you can take it.” He pulled John’s legs so they were straight out behind him and pulled John’s trousers off him completely.

 

They stayed on the bed together, neither speaking for the next half-hour. Sherlock kept going over what John had told him, feeling angry and possessive. When he felt himself get hard, he pushed John on his back and fucked him again. Much like when they had first started having sex, John laid there and let Sherlock do whatever he wanted with him. Not resisting, but not helping either.

 

After Sherlock had cum again, John curled up and fell asleep. Sherlock lit a cigarette and sat at the end of the bed, thinking about his next move. Jim would expect a counter attack if he did not come back asking for more drugs or wanting to start a business deal. How long could he realistically stall him? A few days? Likely a week at the most. Moran, or someone else, would be back.

 

Sherlock sat smoking for as long as he could. There was an hour before lunch, so he figured he had given John a good enough break. He found the lube and looked down at John. The man was laying on his front, clutching a pillow in his arms as if he was trying to comfort himself. He still had his top layers on, but his arse was still tantalizingly exposed.

 

Sherlock got on his knees behind John and coated his cock in lube, spreading John’s arse cheeks, he pressed inside him. 

 

John’s head shot up and he tried to scramble away.

 

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” He wrapped an arm under John’s waist, stopping him from pulling away. He continued to press himself into John, despite the man’s attempt to escape. John said nothing about the agreement they had made earlier. He had to be used to Sherlock going back on his word by then.

 

John grunted and clenched around him. 

 

He started to move like he was going to change position, but Sherlock put a hand on the middle of his back.

 

“Easy John, no need to move.”

 

John lay back down and put his face in the pillow.

 

Pressed all the way inside, Sherlock pulled his body forward so that John had to drape one of his legs over his. John’s other leg tucked between his. Lying flushed together, Sherlock lets go of John and gives a couple of sharp thrusts.

 

They were so close together, with very little effort Sherlock could make John’s whole body move against his, John’s arse jiggling with every thrust. Sherlock enjoyed the power of dominating John with just his hips. Watching John’s body move with each motion, and at the speed he wanted, was enticing. 

 

John moaned under him, pushing his face as far into the pillow as he could.

 

“You like it.” Sherlock taunted. “You don’t want to, but my bitch loves it when I get heavy handed.”

 

John groaned.

 

Sherlock laughed, speeding up. Watching John trying to resist his own pleasure made it that much better. He thrust in a few more times, and then came, falling on top of John.

 

“You’re a brute.” John said, sounding upset but well on his way to forgiving him.

 

Sherlock kissed his neck and put his lips right next to John’s ear. “There’s no denying you love this. You learned a secret of mine, and instead of holding it against me, you offered up your body for my comfort.”

 

John shivered under him.

 

“No more hiding John, you’re a cock-slut and you know it.”

 

\---------

The next paper Sherlock slipped to the guards said:  
Sebastian Moran, military, works for Jim

 

Two days later, he received an entire file instead of the usual clippings. It had everything: his military records, personal file, arrest records, even bank statements. He might not know who Jim was, but he knew who his right hand man was, and that, in itself, told him a lot about Jim.

 

He turned his head to look at John, asleep on his bunk. He had been fucking him so often that John had taken to napping at every opportunity. He smiled, thinking about all the things he had done to John, and all the things he would do in the future.

 

“Do you solve these crimes because you’re bored?” John asked, holding up two newspaper clippings describing the murder of a family in Leeds.

 

“It passes the time.” Sherlock said from his spot laid out on his bunk.

 

John looked at the papers, then back at him. “You’re a criminal who solves crimes as a hobby?”

 

Sherlock smiled, “It’s a good distraction.”

 

John’s expression opened and he put the clippings down. He looked like he had just realized something about Sherlock that he liked.

 

For a moment, Sherlock thought about telling him the truth. However, that would get John too involved. When he had first met John, the man had questioned him on how he could be so respected, yet not run anything. He had told John half of the truth. Of course, he constantly deduced people and then used their secrets against them, but not everything could be taken care of that way. Sometimes a bribe was needed or Sherlock, himself, needed cigarettes.

 

He had made a deal with his brother that for every case he solved using only newspaper clippings, he was allowed a reward. Those rewards had made his life in prison easier and, by extension, John’s life as well. The jumper and shoes John was wearing were both rewards Sherlock had earned.

 

Sherlock held out his hand. “Come here so I can fuck you.”

 

John left the desk and came over to him. “How do you want me?”

 

“On your front.” He moved so there was room for John to lie down on the bed. 

 

John complied, removing his jumper before he got onto the bed. He lay on his front and looked over his shoulder at Sherlock. Since lying down, Sherlock deduced that John’s heart had started to beat faster and his cock had started to harden.

 

Sherlock pulled John’s trousers and pants off him and flung them on the floor. He looked at John who merely gazed back at him. He reached between John’s legs, up between the cleft of his cheeks and found the plug he had put inside John earlier. 

 

The plug was new, and Sherlock had been keen to try it out. It was eleven inches long and was made of three spheres, each getting smaller the father you got from the base. It had taken thirty minutes for Sherlock to work it inside of John, after he had fucked him.

 

Sherlock took hold of the base and pulled. John moaned under him and pressed his face into the mattress to muffle himself. Slowly, the plug slipped from John’s arse.

 

Sherlock’s cock hardened from watching, seeing how much John could fit inside himself. When the plug was pulled free, some of his cum dribbled out. Sherlock noticed that John’s hole was not closing right away. He moaned and pushed a finger inside. John jumped and pressed back into the intrusion.

 

“My little cock-slut.” Sherlock purred, exploring his tight hole until he could hone in on the bundle of nerves that made John squeal.

 

John turned his face so he was looking at him. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated.

 

Sherlock pulled his finger free and reached over John to grab the lube from the bedside table. He lowered his trousers and pants enough to free his cock and squeezed some lube onto his hand. He coated his cock and lined himself up with John’s hole. He pressed in quickly, finding no resistance. 

 

When he was sheathed, he adjusted John. He forced his legs onto either side of his own and pushed John until he was kneeling with his legs so far apart, his cock pressed against the mattress.

 

“Now fuck yourself.” Sherlock chuckled.

 

John looked over his shoulder at him. “What?”

 

“I want you to grind your arse against my cock till I cum.” He smacked John’s arse and gave him an evil grin.

 

John shivered and rolled his hips against him.

 

Sherlock leaned back and put his hands on his own hips, offering no help.

 

John worked himself on Sherlock’s cock as if he had been born to it. Sherlock realized that he was rolling his hips in a way that let him rub his cock against the mattress at the same time. Sherlock let it go on for a few minutes, watching John work himself into a state.

 

“Enough!” Sherlock barked.

 

John froze his hips mid-roll.

 

He pulled out and pulled on John’s shoulder until he rolled over. Sherlock put his arms under his knees and forced his legs over his shoulders, and then leaned over John until they were looking in each other’s eyes before pressing back into him.

 

John moaned and reached out to take hold of Sherlock’s arms, which were caging in his head.

 

“You’re so deep.” John breathed.

 

“Tell me.” Sherlock panted. “Tell me you like it!” He growled.

 

“Never stop.” John panted.

 

Sherlock picked up his pace, slamming into John repeatedly.

 

“I want you inside me all the time.” John closed his eyes.

 

“Look at me!” Sherlock demanded. 

 

John opened his eyes and looked up. The second they locked eyes he came.

 

Sherlock smiled, pounding into his faster.

 

“Cum in me.” John whispered, reaching up to card his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “I need it.”

 

Sherlock pressed himself as hard as he could into John and came, filling him up. “Mine!” He growled.

 

They looked at each other for a moment, Sherlock softening inside John. He let John’s legs slip from his shoulders and collapsed on top of him. Sherlock pressed his mouth to John’s neck and bit him.

 

“Ouch!” John tried to push him off, but Sherlock held fast.

 

Sherlock covered John’s neck and chest with love bites. Then he leaned in and kissed him for the first time. John looked up at him, shocked. Then he closed his eyes and parted his lips to deepen the kiss.

 

\---------

“Watson, Visitor.” 

 

John looked up from the book he had been reading and looked around the library, thinking there had to be another Watson. When the guard motioned for him to follow, he stood up and put the book down on the table. In all the time he had been in prison, no one had ever come to visit him, none of his army mates, or even Harry, which, he realized later, he should have expected.

 

John followed the guard to the visitor’s area and took a seat. At the table sat a man in a brown-stripped three-piece suit, with ginger hair, and a sour disposition. He had a file open in front of him and did not even look up when John sat down. John figured he was a lawyer wanting to re-open his case.

 

“Um-” John started.

 

“I sent him the initial information about you over six months ago.” 

 

The man looked up and stared at John the way Sherlock did when he was trying to read people.

 

“Out of all the cases I’ve sent him, yours is the only one he hasn’t solved. Why is that?”

 

“Sorry?” John was lost. This man either had the wrong person, or enjoyed teasing inmates.

 

“I think I understand, now that I’m sitting here.” He gave John a rude look. “I recall my secretary having to buy that jumper. You also have bite marks on your neck. Clearly you’re his distraction and he didn’t want to lose you.” The man sighed. “Sometimes all he thinks about is himself.”

 

“We’re talking about Sherlock now?” So, not only did this man know Sherlock, but had, apparently, bought his jumper.

 

“My brother has clearly not told you anything.”

 

John started at the word ‘brother,’ but then he thought about it. Posh, arrogant, likes to talk down to people; yes, this could definitely be Sherlock’s brother.

 

“What exactly was Sherlock suppose to have done six months ago?” John asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

 

“Prove you didn’t kill Jefferson Hope. It’s clear your sister did it. She must have promised you something.”

 

This was a nightmare. He did not know if he was happy or pissed off that Sherlock had not done anything. He immediately knew why he had not, selfishness. He did not want to lose his toy. To have a stranger come in and lay out what he had done made him feel nauseated.

 

“Your sister is an alcoholic. I’m sure she told you she would get clean, start over, if you would only help her.”

 

John dropped his face so he was looking at the table. He did not want to see the smug expression on the man’s face when he said what he feared most.

 

“She never checked in. I suppose she thought she would do it herself. She lasted a few weeks, but then you were sentenced and she was on the bottle again. She’s worse than ever. At this point, being in prison and getting force rehab might be what’s best for her.”

 

John stood up.

 

“I’ve upset you.”

 

John smiled darkly at him. “That’s good, figuring that out. What you don’t know is that I admitted to Sherlock that I was innocent months ago. If he’s chosen not to tell you, it’s because he’s a selfish prick who enjoys my company.”

 

“You don’t seem too upset about that.” 

 

John shrugged. “It wouldn’t change anything.” John stepped away from the table to head to lunch.

 

“He’ll never change, not completely. He may show you a small kindness every once in a while, but he will always be a brute and he will always misuse you.”

 

John did not turn around, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing that the words had affected him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end is finally here. i hope you all like it. there is the minor character deaths in this chapter.

When John entered the cell, he looked slightly dazed. Sherlock watched him from his seat at the desk. John passed him and stood in the middle of the room, looking at the wall.

 

“I had a visitor.”

 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, though he knew John could not see his face.

 

“Your brother.”

 

Sherlock did not respond.

 

“He got me thinking-“

 

“You don’t need to think.” Sherlock bit out.

 

John turned to look at him. “Because then I wouldn’t be your brainless plaything?” He clipped. 

 

Sherlock glared at him. “On your knees.” He opened his legs in invitation. 

 

John looked at him as if measuring his resolve. Then he dropped down and bent his head over Sherlock’s groin. Wordlessly, he opened Sherlock’s trousers and took his cock into his mouth.

 

“That’s it,” Sherlock groaned. “Take it, take it all. I want to see you gag on my cock. You do not get to bloody breathe unless I let you. I want to feel you fighting for air, and then fighting that, because you are trying to be good, so good for me, John.”

 

John did as told. Sherlock watched him, enraptured. He wanted to keep John, even after he was freed. He would. He would keep him, always.

 

“On my bunk, naked.”

 

John stripped as ordered and climbed on the bed. Sherlock was going to take him roughly. He enjoyed asserting his dominance over John.

 

“On your front.” Sherlock said softly.

 

John rolled onto his belly and watched as Sherlock fetched the lube from the bedside table. He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on John’s thigh.

 

“I’m going to open you up today.” Sherlock purred, his fingers sliding up John’s leg to the curve of his arse. “Going to make you feel so good you’ll beg me to fuck you.

 

Slowly, just as promised, Sherlock opened him one finger at a time. When he got to the third, John began to rut against the mattress.

 

“Do you want my cock?” Sherlock asked, his voice smug.

 

John nodded. “Please.” He whined.

 

Sherlock chuckled and removed his fingers. “On your hands and knees.”

 

John scrambled to do as he was told.

 

Sherlock climbed up behind him and slid his hands over John’s perfect, round arse. “Such a good slut.”

 

John whined and pushed his arse into Sherlock’s hands.

 

“Alright, alright. Don’t panic.”

 

There was a rustle of fabric and a squelching sound of lube being poured into Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock lined his cock up with John’s entrance then pushed in slowly.

 

John moaned and pushed back impatiently.

 

“Easy, easy, we’re getting to that.” Sherlock murmured, slowly pushing into John until he was fully seated.

 

John stayed still and waited. Sherlock started to move and John pushed back against him.

 

“That’s it, make me feel good.” Sherlock whispered, lowering his body so his chest pressed against John’s back.

 

Sherlock sped up his pace, rolling his hips into John over and over. He could tell John was trying very hard not to cry out. He did hate fucking with an audience.

 

John’s cock started to drip with pre-cum, Sherlock knew his orgasm was just around the corner. John fell onto his elbows and reached back with one hand towards Sherlock’s hip. His fingers gripped onto the fabric there, curling into a fist.

 

“Tell me you like it.” Sherlock whispered in his ear. 

 

John arched his back and moaned. “More, Sherlock. I need more.”

 

Sherlock chuckled and fucked him harder, his hips moving so fast that he could feel John’s arse jiggle.

 

“Cum, John.” Sherlock growled.

 

John rolled his hips back, meeting with Sherlock. He shivered and then came all over the bed with a harsh grunt.

 

Sherlock stilled for a moment and pulled out. “Roll over.” He demanded.

 

John rolled over and looked at Sherlock, his eyes slightly glazed over. 

 

Sherlock pushed John’s knees up until they rested on his shoulders and thrust back into him.

 

John swallowed and tried to act as if he was comfortable. Sherlock knew he was overly sensitive now, and he loved it. He wanted to see if he could get him to cum a second time.

 

Sherlock thrust into John at a punishing speed then lowered his face so it was in John’s neck. His teeth latched on.

 

John buried a groan into Sherlock’s shoulder.

 

Sherlock thrust harder and stilled, his moan muffled in John’s skin. 

 

John quivered and Sherlock felt him cum again.

 

“You have a first rate arse John.” Sherlock pushed himself onto his arms and smiled down at him. “I’m never going to let you go.

 

\-----

 

Sherlock sat smoking, pretending he was reading a newspaper article Mycroft had left him. He was waiting for John to speak. Since they had fucked, he had been watching Sherlock as if he wanted to say something.

 

“Spit it out.” He dropped his work and turned to face John.

 

“It’s come to my attention that you might not be as big of an asshole as I thought you were.”

 

Sherlock gave no response.

 

“I think you’re up to something.”

 

“Me?” Sherlock said in a mocking tone.

 

John sat up and gathered a sheet around his waist. “You’re not what you seem.”

 

‘He had that right.’ Sherlock shrugged and turned away. “I’m not your prince charming, John.”

 

“No”, John said, leaning over Sherlock’s shoulder. “That would be boring.”

 

That night, as John lay sleeping, Sherlock watched him. He had grown to care for him more than he had any other person. Which was ridiculous, he did not care for people. He wanted to keep him, but more than that, he wanted to keep him safe. From anyone that was not him. He knew what he had to do; he just needed the guts to do it.

 

\-----

 

When Sherlock returned from his work detail the next night, he found John already in bed. He sat on the edge and shook his shoulder to ask him to scoot over and let him lay beside him. When John turned his face to look at him, Sherlock’s gut twisted. John’s face was mottled with bruises.

 

“What happened?”

 

John looked over his shoulder instead of at him.

 

“Don’t make me ask a second time!”

 

John sighed and looked at him. “Jim hopes you like this present better then the last one.” He ground out.

 

The hand not resting on John’s shoulder balled into a fist.

 

“Did he do it personally?’

 

John shook his head. “Moran.”

 

Sherlock was going to kill him. First, however, he needed to take care of John. He got John to move over and spooned up behind him.

 

“You’re strangely sweet sometimes.” John whispered.

 

“Don’t ever repeat that. I have a reputation to protect.” 

 

Sherlock heard John chuckle. 

 

After John had fallen asleep, Sherlock got up, wrote a short note to Mycroft, and handed it to a passing guard.

 

\-----

 

A week later, Sherlock sat on the edge of his bunk, John sucking him off while fucking himself on the massive twelve-inch long purple dildo he had received the week before. The sight alone was enough to make Sherlock cum. He had to solve math problems in his head to keep from cumming too fast.

 

There was a bang at the door and a guard stuck his head in. “Watson, you’re needed in the main office.”

 

John did not stop.

 

“Give us five minutes.” Sherlock ran his fingers though John’s hair.

 

The guard nodded but kept watching.

 

Sherlock came first then reached down and wrapped his hand around John’s cock. He only had to touch him and John came all over himself. Sherlock smiled at him while John caught his breath.

 

“We’ll put your plug back in then you can go.”

 

John nodded and moved so he was bent over the bed, his arse exposed to Sherlock so he could help. Sherlock worked the plug into him and slapped his arse. John pulled up his trousers and made for the door. Sherlock watched him go, knowing he would not be back. 

 

He had told Mycroft everything he needed to know to exonerate John and had made sure he got him out of the prison before anything else happened to him. He did not want to let John go, but it was for the best. He had to take down Jim.

 

\-----

 

John had been shocked to hear he was being freed. It seemed like a dream. He had been let out, all charges were dropped, and an apology for false imprisonment was given. He had called Harry up, but had found that she had skipped town. He had no home, no job, and all of his friends thought he was a murderer. There was nothing for him. He had gone and stayed at Harry’s flat a few days as he got back on his feet, but he wanted a place of his own.

 

When the doorbell rang, he had expected an angry ex-girlfriend of Harry’s to be standing there, demanding money Harry owed them. He had seen a few already. He had not expected Sherlock’s brother.

 

“Might I come in?” 

 

John stepped back to let him pass. 

 

“I can’t recall if I ever introduced myself. My name is Mycroft Holmes.”

 

John nodded.

 

“You must be wondering how you were released and how it happened in so timely a manner.” 

 

“I had wondered.”

 

“One word: Sherlock.”

 

John sighed. “Perhaps I should make us some tea.” 

 

John made tea and they sat across from each other at the kitchen table.

 

“My brother is a very selfish man, and yet, he seems to care for you.” Mycroft looked as if he could not understand why.

 

John just sipped his tea.

 

“Did he ever tell you what crime he committed?”

 

John shook his head. He had been curious, of course, but Sherlock was not one to talk about such things.

 

“He was a drug addict. He became aware of a powerful figure moving mass amounts of money around and looked into him. The only thing he could come up with was a name, Jim Moriarty. He seemed to have his hands in everything, human trafficking, drugs, murder, and politics. Sherlock’s hunt for him did him a lot of good. He was too busy to do drugs. He had been clean for a little over a year when he heard a rumor that Moriarty was in prison. So, naturally, he went and bought a large amount of heroin and made sure a police officer saw him with it. Then he punched the man.” Mycroft sighed. “He’s been hunting him from the inside ever since.”

 

“Jim.” John breathed. It made sense. Sherlock had been convinced Jim was up to something by sending him the drugs.

 

“I received a note from him yesterday saying Jim was gone. He doesn’t know where, but he’s worried he may come after you.”

 

John nodded. “Thanks for the concern.”

 

“I only do this for him.” Mycroft gave him hard look. “Sherlock cares for you, which is frightening all on its own. His idea of love is to smother the thing for which he cares. I have done what he asked, and now I will go. I am a very busy man.”

 

John saw him out, and then went to the guest bedroom where he kept his things. He reached under the bed and found his service pistol. Moriarty might be coming, but he was prepared.

 

\-----

 

John sat up that night in the dark and waited. When he heard the front door unlock at half-past three in the morning, he cocked his gun and pointed it towards the door. Two figures stepped in, leaving the lights off. John watched them get their bearings, not realizing that he was sitting in the corner of the room. He reached for the lamp next to him and turned it on. The two figures turned to look at him.

 

“Boo.” He muttered before firing. The first shot hit Moran in the left shoulder, the second hit Moriarty in the throat. The two men fell and John picked up his phone and called the police.

 

When he had hung up, he stepped closer to them and watched as Moriarty bled to death on his sister’s floor.

 

Moriarty glared at him as he held his neck. “You’re supposed to be his pet.” He took several labored breaths. “Unable to think for yourself.”

 

“I am his, but as he discovered, I’m more complicated then I seem.” He gave him a cruel smile. 

 

The sound of sirens was close now. John looked over at Moran, who had gone into shock. If he got medical assistance, he would most likely live. John smiled at the thought and stepped on the wound, making it bleed faster.

 

\-----

 

Sherlock sat in the back of the cab willing it to go faster. Lestrade had texted him an hour ago telling him of a possible Moriarty sighting. When he had heard the address, his blood had run cold. It was John’s sister’s. He had been right when he thought Jim would go after John. He only hoped he was not too late.

 

When the cab hit the police perimeter, he threw a few bills at the man and jumped out of the car. Passing the sergeant manning the tape, he moved towards the entrance of the building. He was about to enter when he heard someone call to him. He turned and saw Lestrade standing at the back of an ambulance.

 

“Is he alright?” Sherlock demanded, stepping closer to the detective.

 

Lestrade gave him a pitying look. “I’m sorry, he was DOA.”

 

Sherlock stopped, he felt his chest tighten and his lungs seize up. Lestrade stepped sideways and Sherlock saw behind him. Sitting on the back of the ambulance was John with a gaudy orange blanket draped around his shoulders. Sherlock blinked, John was still there.

 

John gave him a shy smile and stood, stepping past Lestrade.

 

“You’re dead.” Sherlock murmured.

 

“What gave you that idea?” John asked, tilting his head slightly.

 

Sherlock glared at Lestrade. “You said he was dead!”

 

Lestrade looked between them in surprise. “I thought you meant Moriarty.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about him.”

 

Lestrade smiled. “You spent the past three years chasing him.”

 

Sherlock shrugged and refused to look at John. “I found something better to do with my time.”

 

Lestrade looked at John. “I bet you did.” He cleared his throat. “You’re free to go tonight, Mr. Watson. But I’d like you to stop by the station tomorrow.”

 

John nodded, not taking his eyes off Sherlock.

 

Lestrade stood awkwardly, looking at John and Sherlock for a minute, then coughed and walked away.

 

“What happed?” Sherlock demanded, finally looking at John again.

 

“He came after me, but I was waiting.” John smiled. “I shot him before he could shoot me.”

 

“You’re all right?”

 

John smiled and stepped closer. “Why don’t you check for yourself?”

 

Sherlock felt heat pool in his gut. “Follow me.” He walked out of the crime scene knowing John was following. He hailed a cab at the next main road and gave them his address. Since getting out of prison three days ago, he had spent his time tracking Moriary and securing a flat.

 

When they arrived at Baker Street, he handed the driver a few bills and made his way inside. He did not let himself look at John until they were both inside the flat with the door closed. 

 

John stood by the fireplace, staring at the skull he had placed on the mantel. Sherlock stepped behind him and met his eyes in the mirror.

 

“Tell me what you want, Sherlock.” John sighed.

 

Sherlock turned him so they were facing each other, and then pulled John against him. He pressed his lips to John’s and wrapped his arms around his waist. John put his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders and opened his mouth to him. Sherlock ravaged his mouth, letting his hands skim over John’s back. Sherlock’s hand wandered lower as they kissed until he was cupping John’s arse with one hand. He dipped his hand into John’s trousers and then let one of his fingers slip into his crack. When he got to John’s entrance, he felt a sudden hardness. He tapped his finger against it and felt John shiver against him.

 

“What’s that, John?” He purred in John’s ear.

 

John shivered and pulled back so they were looking at each other. “I made sure I was ready for you when you came for me.”

 

“Show me. “ 

 

John stepped back and took off his trousers and his pants. Then he turned so his arse was facing Sherlock and pulled his cheeks apart, showing the round base of the plug.

 

Sherlock recognized it as the one he had put in John the day he had left prison. He stepped forward and ran his hand over John’s arse. “Such a good slut.”

 

John shivered.

 

“I told you I was going to keep you, didn’t I?”

 

John nodded.

 

Sherlock turned John so he was facing him. “From now on, you live here with me. You sleep in the bed I tell you to, and I fuck you when ever and where ever I want. You will help me with my work, and stay out of the way when I do not need you. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nothing changes. You’re still my slut.”

 

John smiled. “I was hoping you would say that. Somehow, I’ve gotten addicted to you. I don’t actually know what I would do without you. The dildo I bought isn’t enough. It can’t satisfy me like you can.”

 

“Do you want me?”

 

John nodded.

 

“Then show me.”


End file.
